


runaways

by amaelamin



Series: geisha!verse [2]
Category: Infinite (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Geisha, Alternate Universe - Royalty, Angst, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-28
Updated: 2016-07-28
Packaged: 2018-07-27 07:36:04
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 795
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7609441
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/amaelamin/pseuds/amaelamin
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>This is the same prompt as the first drabble - I couldn't stop thinking about it because I wanted to write something more lighthearted this time.</p>
            </blockquote>





	runaways

“Sake,” Myungsoo said to the bustling waitress as she swept by their table in the corner; not quite imperious and demanding but with an unspoken, deep-down confidence that if he wanted sake, he would get sake and then some. She hesitated the slightest fraction of a second, eyebrows quirking upwards, before she decided not to care about being ordered around by what looked like two low-ranking servants from the palace having snuck out for a drink. Sungyeol panicked anyway.

“You’re not in the palace anymore!” he hissed, grabbing Myungsoo’s arm. “You can’t keep ordering people to do things _like you’re the crown prince_ ,” he ended meaningfully, eyes bright and earnest.

“I’m not the crown prince,” Myungsoo agreed, and made a point of thanking the waitress humbly when she brought their warm sake a few minutes later. She gave them a strange look before she left, and Sungyeol drank his cup down a bit too fast and desperately. The inn was loud and crowded, two reasons Sungyeol hadn’t wanted to come in – but Myungsoo had argued that they’d be less easy to spot in a crowd and people being noisy were less likely to spend time looking around them, recognizing faces that didn’t want to be recognized. Sungyeol had spent the past ten minutes on high alert, unable to stop his heart pounding in his chest.

A familiar voice behind them made Sungyeol freeze immediately and hunker down over his tiny cup, forcing Myungsoo to do the same.

“What? Who is it?” Myungsoo asked, the note of excitement in his voice making Sungyeol want to tear his hair out.

“It’s the horsemaster. He looks after your family’s horses – you don’t know him?”

Myungsoo mumbled something in answer, ducking his head slightly. Sungyeol let his thoughtful gaze linger for a second more on Myungsoo, and then put all his energy into not being recognized by the horsemaster. He’d wrapped and dirtied Myungsoo up as best he could without calling attention to themselves, but he’d gone riding quite a fair bit while at the palace – surely the horsemaster had seen him around the common stables at least once –

“Yeah, the crown prince,” the horsemaster was saying, and Sungyeol felt his heart drop to his feet. Myungsoo sat up straighter with an almost imperceptible movement.

“Useless brat. Born with a silver spoon in his mouth and spends his days doing what? Nothing. Sure, he’s educated. But he’ll be just as useless as his father is when he takes over, mark my words.”

“He’s so handsome, though,” a barmaid interrupted, mischievous smile on her face. “Whoever gets to be his future princess is lucky.”

“What good is handsome? Can handsome plan good policies? Can handsome make sure we don’t fall under the control of these Western devils carving up other Asian lands?”

Myungsoo made to swivel around his seat and Sungyeol managed to spill out random coins from his purse onto the table, grab Myungsoo’s arm and drag themselves upright and out of the inn before Myungsoo had the chance to open his mouth and land them both right in it. He frogmarched Myungsoo down at least three streets before he dared to turn around and see if anyone was following them.

The street behind them was empty.

The winter night was no place for a son of the shogun to be traipsing around without at least one of his fine fur wraps – the cheap coats Sungyeol had swiped from the servants’ quarters as disguise – what had he even been thinking – were nowhere near warm enough. Sungyeol thought of his own room at the palace, full of warm boots and fur-lined robes; Myungsoo’s face was shining with the shocking cold or the thrill of running away, Sungyeol couldn’t tell which. He refused to think of what would happen if they were caught.

Myungsoo entertwined his fingers with Sungyeol’s in the darkness of the street, and Sungyeol tried to calculate how long it’d take for the servants to realize Myungsoo was missing. Sungyeol hurried Myungsoo along, Myungsoo’s grip tightening, feet crunching in the snow.

“Do you remember when we first met?” Myungsoo asked breathlessly, little clouds puffing from his lips.

Sungyeol glanced sideways at him, heart wrenching slightly at how excited Myungsoo looked.

“I wasn’t supposed to see you dancing that day. If my father knew how many times you’ve danced for me since then he’d have a fit.”

 _And my head on a plate_ , Sungyeol thought silently. “Well, you are just a brat who’s only uselessly handsome, anyway,” he said, unable to stop himself.

Myungsoo screeched to a halt and was in the middle of forming a furious protest when Sungyeol kissed him – a quick one that missed Myungsoo’s mouth; cold lips landing near his nose.

“Let’s go,” Myungsoo whispered.


End file.
